Sleep
by wwff372
Summary: Sam learns the cost of a little appreciation. No spoilers, just a little fluff-ish scene.


_Disclaimer: The West Wing and all associated characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and not myself, sadly._  
_Author's Note: I think Toby abused the italics on this one... Apologies in advance._

Sam woke with a start.

He peered around for a few bleary-eyed seconds, eyes skimming over the various piles of paper surrounding him. Paper, but not bed sheets; he was pretty sure they were supposed to be sheets.

Moving sluggishly, he picked up the folder nearest him- a treasury briefing. Funny. He didn't remember taking that home with him…

Sam sat up abruptly, scattering some other nearby papers. They fluttered off his desk, onto the worn carpet beneath. _Office_ carpet.

"Cathy!" Sam yelled. He sank back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

That definitely did not sound like Cathy. Too low, too jocular. Actually, it sounded a lot like-

"Hey, Rip Van Winkle. Look alive," Josh quipped, leaning against the doorframe.

"Don't get cute." Sam ran a tired hand across his face. "It's too early."

"I can't help it; I'm naturally adorable. And it's 9:30."

"It's nine-" Sam cut himself off, peering at his watch. "In the morning?"

"No, Sam, at night," Josh replied, rolling his eyes. He gestured to the sunlight that very obviously shone through the window.

"I see you are intent on being insufferable this morning," Sam sighed.

"Not insufferable- in_vinc_ible."

He looked up. "You fixed the thing?"

"Yup," Josh crowed.

"You tell Leo yet?"

"I was just about-"

Suddenly, Donna appeared in the doorway as well. "Josh, you've got staff in five."

"Yeah." Josh paused. "How did you know I was here?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Your ways are not nearly as mysterious as you'd like to believe. If you're not in your office, and you're not in a meeting, you're usually with Sam."

Josh contemplated that, shrugging. He pushed himself upright and grabbed a folder out of Donna's hand, flipping through it absentmindedly.

"Can you get me some coffee?" he asked.

Donna stared at him.

He glanced up at her and then froze. "What?" he asked defensively.

"Josh. When was the last time I got you coffee?"

"Uh… never? But I'm asking you to get me some now."

"I'll think about it."

"Donna!" Josh whined. "You're my assistant! You're supposed to get me coffee!"

She seemed to contemplate that for a second. "Yes… But I like to think we transcend the average boss-assistant relationship."

Before Josh could retort, she spun on her heel and walked off. Josh frowned and muttered to himself before remembering where he was. He quirked an eyebrow at Sam, who sighed and stood to join him.

xxxxxxxxxx

The staff meeting was coming to a close.

"Okay, Josh, finish the tax briefing by three. That's all," Leo dismissed them.

As they stood, Josh turned to Sam.

"Hey, Sam, what're you doing?"

"I am going back to my office to work on a draft of the President's address to…"

He trailed off at the look on Josh's face.

"I'm going back to your office with you to help you understand the briefing?"

Josh smiled. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Sam replied, bemused.

They were in the hallway at that point, one of the many winding passages that snaked through the west wing. As they rounded a corner, Toby accosted them.

"Sam."

"Yeah?"

"We need to start on the thing-"

"Right. Just let me help Josh with-"

"Yeah." Toby paused, continued blandly. "Is that the same suit you wore yesterday?"

Sam looked down at himself, seemingly surprised by his own attire. "Um…yeah."

Flustered, he sped up his pace and didn't look back to catch Toby's sardonic smirk. Josh barely managed to keep up.

"You know, that whole finishing-each-others'-thoughts thing is kind of cute," he commented. They entered his office and Sam collapsed on the guest chair, closing his eyes. When Sam didn't answer with the expected retort, Josh examined his friend closely. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the harsh overhead light threw into relief the few wrinkles that snaked across his boyish face. But other than the unfortunately typical signs of exhaustion, he seemed okay. Josh relaxed, relieved.

"You know what, Sam? I think I've got it. Go home and get some sleep."

Sam waved him off and struggled to sit up. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine."

"Sam."

Sam ignored him and pulled a copy of the briefing forward. He glanced up, only to see Josh peering at him. Pretending not to notice, he cleared his throat and plowed ahead

"Now, if you look here, this part is really what we're going to want to emphasize. People think this tax is going to hurt them; but in reality the expense each individual will experience is minimal, while the benefits are enormous. I've already talked to CJ-"

"Sam."

The man in question huffed with exasperation. "Josh. I'm fine. Just a little tired, but nothing I can't handle. I've just been having some trouble coming up with a good closer for the dinner speech- not that the president probably won't improvise it anyway. And then yesterday we got handed this last minute thing, but Toby's plate is already so full that I told him I could do it on my own. And I can, but what with that, and the President's statement for the thing next week… and then Tuesday my sister asked me to look into a lease she's thinking about, which isn't a big deal except there's this one part that looks kind of suspicious, so I've been researching the specifics of California building code, and… Uh. I lost my train of thought. How long have I been talking?"

"Probably for longer than you've slept in the past few days. Look, Sam, admit it. You're tired, and you have a tendency to ignore your dwindling energy levels until you collapse."

"But… I have work to do. My brilliance must be carried on!" He was only half kidding.

"Hey, hubris is my thing, remember?" Josh joked, grinning at Sam for a second before sobering. He stood up and opened his door, clearly dismissive. "Seriously, though. That thing up there that passes for a brain will still function after a nap. Your work will still be there, too. Exciting, isn't it?"

"I am not taking a-" Sam protested haughtily.

"Go. Sleep. Now," Josh interrupted, lightly shoving Sam out of his office.

Sam pouted. But really, he was feeling pretty tired, though he would never admit it. And maybe a few hours of shut-eye would give him the inspiration he needed to finish off that speech. With a sigh of defeat, he headed towards the exit.

"I'll have you know I got a 760 on the verbal portion of the SAT. Without studying!" he called over his shoulder.

Josh didn't even bother to dignify that with a response.

xxxxxxxxxx

When Sam woke up for the second time that day, the first thing he did was check his surroundings. The presence of sheets and a pillow soon satisfied him. Glancing at the clock, he calculated that he'd gotten about 4 hours of sleep. _Not bad_, he thought to himself, standing and stretching. He felt fairly refreshed, more energized than he'd felt in... he shook his head. It was a depressing train of thought.

When he got back to the office, everything was pretty much as he'd left it. He was embarrassed to admit it, but in truth Sam had sort of expected disaster to strike in his absence. It was both a relief and a blow to his ego that the west wing managed to function without him. Smooth sailing and all that.

God, and he hated clichés.

Suddenly, a loud _whump_ came from the wall adjoining Sam's office with Toby's, followed closely by the muffled yet distinct sounds of his boss yelling at an assistant. The noise level escalated, and Sam distinctly heard his name. He winced gently and waited for the inevitable.

Not a minute later, the door flew open. Toby stood before him, his wounded-basset-hound face slightly flushed with anger, a typically sardonic sneer lurking just below the surface. However, when he spoke, his voice was deceptively calm and quiet. Sam took that to be a bad sign- as if the fanatical light in Toby's eyes hadn't been enough of a clue.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm…fine," Sam replied hesitantly.

"Good. So no deathly illnesses?"

"Not at the moment."

"Wonderful. And no family emergencies or sudden deaths?"

"Not as far as I'm aware."

"Superb." The two men stared at each other a moment. Toby's face grew steadily more composed, which usually meant the opposite was happening to his emotions. When he finally spoke, each of his perfectly enunciated words made Sam sink down a tiny bit further in his seat.

"Then where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been?"

For someone who got paid for his gift with words, Sam was having a lot of trouble with his command of the English language at the moment.

"I, uh…well, I was…Josh had…I was tired, so-"

"You were _tired_?" Toby interrupted with mock concern. "Poor baby. You must not have realized what you were signing up for when you agreed to play with the big boys and help _run the country_."

"Toby, listen, I'm sorry. It-"

"No, don't worry about it. You're only Deputy Communications Director for the leader of the free world, you obviously aren't important."

"Toby. Jesus. I apologize, all right? What happened?"

"What happened? What _happened_?" Toby took a deep breath. And then another. Neither seemed to have much effect. "What _happened_ is that the President decided to move his address up three days. Which means that he's giving it tomorrow. Which _means_ he wants to see the final draft by the end of the day. Of course, since I usually do most of the work around here anyway, I've already finished it. But when I needed a second opinion, _someone_ decided it was time to get some beauty sleep!"

As Toby spoke, Sam couldn't help the small, traitorous smile that formed at the right corner of his mouth. It seemed things hadn't run so smoothly without him, after all.

"Oh, so you think this is _funny_. Maybe I should have been a comedian instead of a professional speechwriter. Or, hey, maybe you should stop smirking and get to work!"

Josh chose that moment to suddenly appear in the communications department. He strode through the bullpen and stopped outside Sam's office.

"I thought I heard your dulcet tones," he deadpanned, turning to Toby. "What's up?"

"Sam went home to take a nap," Toby grumbled.

" 'Kay… And?" Josh replied.

"And he missed me," Sam answered.

Toby narrowed his eyes. "Do you really think you're in a position to be-"

"Aw, Toby, you old softie," Josh interjected, grinning. He punched Toby lightly on the arm. "If I leave for a couple hours, are you going to miss me, too?"

Toby glared at Josh in silence for a second before heading back towards his own office.

"Hey, I've got to go to a meeting later, but if you get lonely you can call me!" Josh called after him.

Sam laughed as Toby lobbied some very choice epithets back at Josh. Josh snickered as well.

"You know, maybe you should leave more often. It puts Toby in such a charming mood," he said.

Sam nodded. Usually, he tried to stay at the office as much as possible in the event that he was needed.. But if acting like a normal human being and sleeping at home made his boss- who was also, admittedly, his idol- appreciate him, he'd definitely think about it.


End file.
